


Sacrifices for Science

by memefair



Series: Canon Divergent: Nanamicentric [6]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Human Nanami Chiaki, Nanami Chiaki Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-24 10:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14353326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memefair/pseuds/memefair
Summary: A particularly persistent researcher attaches himself to Nanami for a couple weeks.





	1. Pest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short but i swear the next ones r longer

“...I thought Izuru made it pretty clear we didn’t want you around,” Chiaki stated flatly, shouldering one of the grocery bags she was carrying so the weight was better distributed.

Though she’d seen no reason to bring the “Ultimate Hope” along with her on this trip (after all, he was rather conspicuous, even if nobody knew his true identity), now she was regretting her decision. 

On her own, she knew she wasn’t particularly threatening. Not in her cat ear hoodie, her Mario t-shirt, and the flower print shorts she was wearing.  _ I could bean him with the bag, _ she considered briefly. Then she sighed.  _ No, the eggs would break… probably. _

The man keeping pace beside her pushed his glasses up on his nose. Chiaki eyed one of his fingers, still obviously splinted. Izuru had broken it last time they’d met, as the researcher attempted to run some “tests” on his former subject. 

She’d only been in favor of it out of concern over possible side effects. Now that they’d confirmed Izuru was perfectly healthy, she’d much rather anything to do with the Hope Cultivation Project be kept out of her life.

(Her mind flashed back to the scars she’d seen riddling Izuru’s skin, leftovers from that very same project, and she grimaced slightly.)

“Certainly, we confirmed Kamukura-sama’s body is in working order,” the man agreed. Chiaki’s grimace turned into a pout, cheeks puffing out as she looked away from him. She hated even the sound of his voice. It was  _ slimy _ , somehow. “His mind is another issue. You… seem to be  _ quite  _ familiar with him, so perhaps--”

“No.” Maybe it’d be worth breaking the eggs, if it meant he’d go away.

“You don’t seem to understand what’s at stake here.” Chiaki picked up the pace as he spoke, but the man easily kept stride with her. She cursed her short legs. “It wasn’t just his body that we rebuilt. There could be signs of stress in his mind that only somebody so…  _ close _ to him would notice, over time…” The way he said the word made it clear that he thought their relationship was an aberration, a stain on the otherwise successful project.

Chiaki rounded on him. “You want to hear how  _ close _ we are?” she asked cheerfully, a sardonic edge in her otherwise soft voice.

She was hoping to see some kind of a blush rise up on the researcher’s face, something that suggested there was a human in there after all, but all she got was a scowl in return.  _ Of course, _ she reflected.  _ Nobody human would do something so terrible to another human… try to remake him to be  _ in _ human, some kind of tool they could use  _ and _ their god all at once. _

“I have no interest in the details of your relationship with Kamukura-sama beyond what is necessary.” He grimaced, and added under his breath, “You should not even  _ have _ a relationship with him in the first place.”

Chiaki remained silent, seeing no point in disagreeing, and the man continued to follow her all the way back to the front of her apartment building. It had been rebuilt and refurbished by Future Foundation in their efforts to establish the town as a safe haven from the Tragedy. 

Working for them meant not being paid in any traditional means, but it did give her a place to stay. She moved around frequently enough that she never stayed anywhere for too long. Her belongings were few and far in between, as she mostly focused on regaining what she’d lost of her video game collection when Hope’s Peak had been destroyed.

She opened the gate. “Leave,” she told the man. “Go home. Whatever that might mean for you.” She didn’t even turn to look as she locked the door behind her, leaving him outside. By the time she’d gotten up the stairs to the fifth floor where her apartment was located, she’d pushed it out of her mind.


	2. Return of the Pest

Of course, that couldn’t be the end of it. The next day, on her way back from work, Chiaki groaned as she heard that same slimy voice intone, “You’re Nanami Chiaki, are you not?” 

Apparently, ignoring him wouldn’t work. It might give her less of a headache to simply indulge him. It wasn’t like the information would harm Izuru or her in any way… hopefully. She stared straight forward, not meeting his gaze as she nodded curtly. 

“The former Ultimate Gamer. Class 77-B. I remember Matsuda-kun ran some tests on you.”

She headed for the bus stop.  _ We were friends, _ she wanted to say.  _ Friends help each other. _

The Ultimate Neurologist would never have admitted they were friends, of course. He was far too prickly and antisocial, preferring to stick to his research or his manga. But he’d been interested in her talent, because she was the first of her kind, so she’d agreed to help him. 

If she’d known any of that research had been going towards something like the Hope Cultivation Project, she’d never have done it. She wouldn’t have even been able to look Matsuda in the eye before he disappeared, not long before the Reserve Course riots began.

“I take it your classmates didn’t survive.” There was a false note of sympathy in his voice, and she had to stop herself from grinding her teeth in frustration. “But  _ you  _ did… Interesting. Did somebody help you? Perhaps…?”

He was digging for information on how long she’d known Izuru. “No.” The single syllable came out far harsher than she intended. “He didn’t help me.”

_ Stranded there in a pool of her own blood, she desperately tried to get back to her feet. She had to complete the dungeon. Through her mind addled with blood loss, she was convinced she could save her friends if she just found the way out, as if that creature that taunted her over the intercom had an ounce of pity in her body.  _

_ It was that one, singular thought that caused her to push herself up against the wall, breathing heavily, legs shrieking where they’d been punctured. But her injured foot found more blood underneath, and she slipped, tumbling to the ground once more with a short scream. _

_ When she looked up, he was standing there above her, leering down with unreadable red eyes. Just like the blood that poured out of her, his gaze held no sympathy for her.  _

_ But still, she reached out for him, words tumbling out of her mouth as the static overwhelmed her senses and drowned out everything she said.  _

Chiaki shuddered, drawing her hands back inside the sleeves of her hoodie. That was the clearest memory she had of that day, and she doubted its authenticity. 

After that, she’d awoken to see the smiling face of Tengan Kazuo beaming down at her in her hospital bed. He’d explained that she was lucky to be alive. “He didn’t help me,” she repeated. “Tengan-san did. That’s how I got my job.”

The researcher made a noise in the back of his throat, as if disappointed.  _ You and me both,  _ Chiaki thought, for once agreeing with him. Though she’d forgiven Izuru for his lack of aid back then, it was still hard to look at him when that memory threatened to resurface, as it nearly did just then.

For that reason, Chiaki wasn’t quite in the mood to keep up her usual gentle, helpful exterior. Not for the sake of this man. “I’m sorry,” she said, though the way she said it suggested she wasn’t sorry at all. “I’ve actually forgotten what your name is.” 

That, to her surprise, brought a wince out on his features.  _ There’s an interesting notion,  _ she noted down.  _ Maybe he took part in the project so people would remember him… so he could be significant in some way? _

_ Not so different from Hinata-kun,  _ pointed out a darker thought in the recesses of her mind. She brushed it off.  _ They’re absolutely nothing alike. _

“My name is Mizushima Yori,” he replied stiffly, recovering himself quickly enough that for a moment Chiaki thought she might have imagined the change in expression. 

_ No, _ she reminded herself.  _ He’s not impervious. They tried their hardest to make Izuru perfect, but they still didn’t quite manage. There’s no way this guy is any better. _

“Mizushima-kun,” Chiaki said.

“Mizushima _ -san _ ,” Mizushima corrected.

“Mizushima.” She dropped the honorific altogether.

His eye twitched. She saw that, and a ghost of a smile rose up on her face. It was a small victory, but it was a victory. Some part of her thought Izuru might be proud of how she was needling the other man, but she knew from experience that making Izuru openly proud was far too lofty a goal to ever be realized.

To his credit, he dropped the subject there. It was likely he sensed how stubborn she could be, and wanted to discuss other things. Whether Chiaki would actually help him or not, she hadn’t yet decided. 

“If I recall,” Mizushima began. “Our research indicated that your talent is a minor form of the analysis talent. You showed a knack for recognizing and interpreting patterns, and for quick reaction times, so long as you were able to focus.” 

Remembering the tests Matsuda had run on her, Chiaki nodded. He’d explained it in a similar way. The parts of her brain that were active while she was playing games were the same parts that would be active in somebody with the Ultimate Analyst talent.

Curious, she’d asked him then if there were anybody like that going to school at the moment. He’d told her to find out for herself, claiming to have better things to do than help a bothersome girl locate a gaming partner. She’d been annoyed that he’d read her so easily. 

“But it couldn’t truly be called analysis, because it only activated at certain times.”

_ Great, _ Chiaki thought, mildly irritated.  _ Me and my brain that only functions  _ some _ times. _

“It’s an interesting talent.” By then, they’d reached the bus stop. Chiaki stood by and watched, leaning against the sign as other people walked or cycled past. There weren’t many cars on the road. If one passed by, she could be almost certain it was Future Foundation owned and operated. Very few of the reclaimed, mostly peaceful settlements were large enough to warrant the use of privately owned vehicles. “A couple decades ago, it would never have been considered a talent at all. In fact, it’s curious that even  _ now _ it’s considered a talent. A talent that’s similar to another, pre-existing talent isn’t a talent at all, especially if it only functions in specific circumstances.”

Chiaki stared at him.

“...is what somebody might say, anyway,” Mizushima continued, aware of her gaze hardening on him. “My question is, would it be possible to  _ unlock _ the rest of your brain? Think of the hidden potential. With the right research, you could rival Enoshima herself--

As he spoke, the bus pulled up, its passengers pouring out of the front and back. That entire time Chiaki hadn’t interrupted him, though her hands had clenched into fists, nails digging into the soft skin of her palms. But as the path to the doors opened, and that name was spoken, she turned back to him, spitting venom.

_ “I know what you did to Hinata-kun.” _

She climbed aboard the bus, and he simply stood there, staring at her. When the bus driver, perplexed, thought to ask him if he was getting on, Chiaki told her that “her friend” was just seeing her off.

Mizushima didn’t argue. 

The doors closed in front of him, and the bus came to life once more. Through the window, Chiaki watched as his figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been erasing my friend myrs comments from these chapters so i can post them and he rps junko and his best comment here was "Ok nanami keep tryina steal junkos men"
> 
> anyway matsunami is definitely one of my weirder brotps but she's also probs one of the few w the patience to put up w his rude ass. so it works


	3. Who Killed Hinata?

Shivering, she pulled the covers tighter around her, contracting her body so she formed a ball to conserve heat. She was too deep in her slumber to notice that she nearly kneed her partner as she changed position there in bed.

“Don’t go,” Chiaki murmured.

_ She knew she could chase after him forever and never reach him. Honestly, she couldn’t even remember why she was chasing him-- at first, it had almost seemed like a game between the two of them, where he easily stayed ahead of her.  _

_ She recalled somewhere in the back of her mind that he’d gone somewhere a long time ago, and she’d been looking for him again all that time. And then she’d found him, and-- _

_ Nothing but static.  _

_ Chiaki stopped, confused. Her surroundings resembled Hope’s Peak, but the sky was a crimson red and the buildings were burning.  _

_ She could hear the screams of the students as they fell from the floors above her. Their bodies crashed to the ground with a sickening crunch all around her, until their blood had begun to soak into her white shoes. Through it all, she felt oddly detached, as if she were watching through a TV screen... _

_...Perhaps from a hospital bed. _

_ (it wasn’t real this couldn’t be happening) _

_ Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head, trying to clear it. She felt herself kneel down beside one of the bodies, reaching out to touch the broken corpse with the tips of her fingers. Concentrating now, feeling a sick sense of dread rising up inside her, she took the body by its shoulders and turned it over. _

_ Hinata stared back at her, his eyes glazed over, skull cracked and leaking. Twisted and mangled like the rest of the Reserve Course students, he didn’t respond as she let out a shout and stumbled backwards. She fell to the concrete and scrambled away as fast as she could.  _

_ Laughter filled the air around her, the deranged “upupupupu” that had been haunting her nightmares since the airing of the 78th class’s Killing Game drilling into her ears until she thought they might bleed. _

_ “A body has been discovered!” That voice taunted. Chiaki looked up, drawing in a hissing breath. _

 

**_INVESTIGATION_ **

**_START!_ **

 

_ She clawed furiously at her head. “This isn’t a game,” she whispered, cradling herself as she rocked back and forth. The words flashed over and over in front of her eyes, even though they couldn’t be real.  “This isn’t a game, this isn’t a game, this isn’t a game--” _

_ “Who killed Hinata-kun?” Monokuma asked, peering down at her. Apparently not liking what he saw, he reached over and grabbed her by the wrist, claws sinking into her skin as he yanked her up on her feet. “You can’t give up now! Somebody has to find the truth!”  _

No, _ Chiaki shook her head furiously.  _ No, no, no...

_ “Who killed Hinata-kun?” _

_       Society killed Hinata-kun!” _

_ “Was it really society?” _

_       “Maybe it was  _ you! _ ” _

_ “The Hope Cultivation Project killed him!” _

_       “Mizushima did it!” _

_ “The riots would have, even if he hadn’t signed up!” _

_       “Who killed Hinata-kun?” _

_ Around and around the debate went, Chiaki realizing with horror that the trial had already started. She scrambled for her notes, desperately drawing them up to her chest, but when she went to read them, they were all blank. All around her, those voices talked over her, all of them fighting for her attention at once. _

_ “But he signed up for it! He knew what he was getting into!” _

_       “He gave his full consent! Tengan-san said so!” _

_ “So, then, the one who killed Hinata-kun…” _

_       “...it was Hinata-kun himself!” _

_ “He killed himself!” _

_       “Just like mom did!” _

_ “He must have been miserable!” _

_       “But then... who do we punish?”  _

_ A moment of silence. Finally, Chiaki could stop and think around the pounding headache that was forming. She wiped her eyes, stood up as tall as she could in order to face the verdict that was being handed down. With her shoulders tense, she braced herself. _

_ “Me,” she heard herself say. “Punish me.” _

_ And they all reached out and pulled her apart piece by piece, tearing her limb from limb like rabid animals. There was no pain, somehow. She just closed her eyes and sank down, feeling a strange sense of tranquility come over her.  _

Maybe they can put me back together better than I was, _ she thought. _

Chiaki shot up, letting out a startled gasp when she realized she was still whole. She lowered her trembling hands to her lap, staring at them in the darkness. Half of her expected them to start rotting, the nightmare beginning again. Reality slowly began to settle over her shoulders instead. It was heavy, but it was nothing new.

She felt Izuru stir. Sighing, she took in a few deep breaths to steady herself and laid back down. “I woke you,” Chiaki murmured. “Sorry, Izu.” 

She turned over on her side and nestled closer to him, putting an arm around his waist. 

Now that she was awake, she could hear the rain hitting the side of the window, the rhythm comforting and familiar. She was even more grateful when Izuru returned her gesture, one arm draped loosely over her shoulder. 

It might have just been an attempt to remind her to go back to sleep, instead of playing one of her games like she often did when she couldn’t sleep, but… she’d take what she could get.

Other than that, he didn’t respond.  _ Maybe I  _ didn’t _ wake him up, _ she considered.  _ He must’ve still been at least half asleep… I think. That’s good. Though I don’t know why it matters. It’s not like  _ he _ has work in the morning. _

She had no idea what Izuru got up to while she was gone, and the thought of it slipped from her mind easily as she began to doze off again, consoled by the sound of his breathing and the warmth of his body near hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u can take my dream sequences away from my cold dead body
> 
> anyway, im working on the next part of beautiful ruin now!! hopefully it'll be up this weekend.  
> if u wanna suffer while u wait, here's my kamunami playlist: https://8tracks.com/lyrasen/i-m-lonely


	4. And Suddenly, Izuru

She didn’t see Mizushima for a few days after that.

“Nanami-san,” a voice whispered near her ear. Chiaki grumbled under her breath, gradually coming to with an exasperated exhale. “Nanami-san, wake up.” 

A gloved hand was put on her shoulder, finally breaking through Chiaki’s drowsing state in full. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and then the side of her mouth where a bit of saliva had collected.

“What…?” She was in front of her desk at work. She’d been going over some files, she remembered, and then she’d put her head down briefly. Nothing came to mind after that. She must have dozed off. 

“It’s time to go.” Chiaki turned around in her chair, eyeing up the other woman. Kirigiri Kyouko stood before her, soft lilac hair bound in a ponytail that fell past her shoulders, violet eyes regarding her with calm scrutiny.

Even with minimal makeup, she was beautiful.

Though her crush on the former Ultimate Detective had faded, Chiaki still found her face flushing. “You let me sleep…?” she asked Kirigiri. 

Normally, interaction between the different branches was rare. Being in the 13th branch would have meant Chiaki had no reason to interact with the head of the 14th branch. They’d found an excuse, however, for all of them to work in the same building, at least for a time-- and that excuse was a secret known only to Chiaki and the survivors of the 78th class.

“You should conserve your energy,” Kirigiri reminded her. “We have a meeting tonight.” She held Chiaki’s gaze. “Make sure you aren’t followed.”

_ Easier said than done,  _ Chiaki nearly retorted, but she bit her tongue and simply nodded in agreement. “Mhm. I know.” 

There was really no way to guarantee that Izuru wouldn’t be watching her every move, since he had a habit of lurking unseen in the shadows, but she’d tried to impress upon him the importance of  _ boundaries _ . If he could have whatever secret project he was working on with his laptop,  _ she _ could have her rendezvous with Naegi and his friends.

After that, she focused on packing everything up, bidding farewell to Kirigiri as she left the building. She took the elevator down, humming a song quietly to herself as she waited to reach the ground floor. When the doors opened, she stepped outside, looking forward to returning home to a dinner that Izuru had cooked himself.

It was too much to ask that Mizushima truly be gone, apparently.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” she commented dryly as he stepped into place beside her. They were walking side by side again, him lagging behind to make up for the difference in their paces.

“I can be plenty stubborn as well,” he said.

_ Ah. So he’s noticed. _ That prompted a wry smile to spring up on Chiaki’s face, though she did her best to mask it. She didn’t want him to think she was actually enjoying his company. 

“But I have work to do, just like you. It benefits Future Foundation as much as yours does.”

She didn’t want to admit that he was probably right.

Their walk together this time was different. He was silent, and she saw no reason to provoke him into speaking. Even though he’d had several days to prepare himself, he apparently still wasn’t sure of what he wanted to say. That, or he simply wished to waste her time, making her uncomfortable with his mere proximity.

Chiaki hated him. Being around him turned her into a harsher version of herself, more ready with sharp, cutting comments than she’d like. It was the  _ anger _ that did it. The feeling buzzed through her entire body when he was near, prompting her to speak quickly without considering her words carefully.

She had plenty of practice keeping her sorrow bound up tightly inside her chest, but such anger was foreign to her. She didn’t know what to do with it. It sat inside her stomach instead, a tightly knit ball that made her feel sick.

He boarded the bus with her without saying a word, taking a seat and folding his hands neatly in his lap.

“You’re going to ask about him,” Chiaki finally said, unable to hold it back any longer. “You’re going to ask about Hinata-kun. I know you are. Just go ahead and do it.”

Mizushima turned to regard her with curiosity. Against her judgment, she did the same to him, studying him closely for the first time since he’d brought her and Izuru to his lab. He was, overall, a rather average looking man. 

The glasses he wore brought an air of dignity to his face, and he dressed neatly. Nothing else stuck out about him at all. If she had to guess, he was likely in his late thirties. 

_ Nearly old enough to be my father,  _ she thought.

She wished she knew what had happened to him.

“Your connection to Kamukura-sama,” Mizushima stated. “It must be through Hinata Hajime. You knew him before the procedure.”

Chiaki looked away, eyes finding her hands where they rested on her thighs, picking absently at her thumbnails. “Yes.”

They hadn’t been friends for long. Not long enough for her to say she  _ really _ knew him, but all the same, he’d been important to her. She felt like she could be herself around him. That was a rarity, and she hadn’t wanted to let it go.

“Childhood friends?”

Chiaki shook her head numbly.

“You met him at school, then.”

She nodded.

“The Steering Committee said there was a girl asking questions around the Reserve Course for some time after we took him in,” Mizushima said.

Chiaki swallowed and nodded again. “Yes. That was me.” She hadn’t been willing to give him up.

At first she’d concluded that he’d broken off contact with her because he no longer wanted to be friends, but several text messages and frantic calls to his parents later proved that was just wishful thinking. “Did… did anybody mention me to him…?” There was a faint note of hope in her voice.

It was immediately crushed. 

“Of course not,” Mizushima told her. “There wouldn’t have been a point.”

_ Right up until the end, he thought nobody cared, _ she thought sadly.  _ I’m sorry, Hinata-kun. I should have tried harder to be your friend. _ At least then he might not have felt so alone.

From there, Mizushima was silent again. She gave him time to speak, not through any kindness of her own, but because she had nothing more to say. That familiar, dull ache in her chest that throbbed whenever she thought of Hinata had reappeared.

“I suppose we could have spent more time suppressing that identity,” the man mused. “We thought we’d done everything we could, but if he’s with you now…”

Chiaki turned away, staring out the window. The bus stopped, and several of the other passengers exited.

Mizushima continued as if oblivious. “You realize, of course, that his relationship with you is only possible because some part of Hinata still lies underneath the surface. It’s the most logical conclusion. More than likely, he’s realized it himself, even if it’s unconscious.”

“And?”

His voice grew softer. “He will grow tired of you,” he said. “When he realizes he has nothing left to gain from your relationship, he will leave. That’s simply how he is. He doesn’t benefit from companionship the way you or I do.”

The only thing that betrayed her anxiety was the drumming of her fingers against her seat. “You were wrong before,” Chiaki reminded him, words equally as soft as his own. “There’s more to him than you’ll ever understand. There’s more to  _ people _ than what you can just… analyze in a lab."

The bus shuddered to a halt again. She stood, and he followed her out the door. They still had several blocks to go before they actually reached her apartment complex, and he spent that time deep in thought.

“Our goal wasn’t human,” he finally said.

“No.” Just like the first time, Chiaki opened the gate. She didn’t wait for him to follow after her, instead closing it so he was unable to get in. “It wasn’t. You’re right.”

She left him to contemplate that statement. When she entered the building, a monotone voice spoke up and made her jump.

“How long has he been following you?”

Chiaki sighed, exasperated as she turned to face Izuru. As far as she could tell, he’d just materialized there. She certainly hadn’t seen him as she walked in the door. It was an annoying habit of his, to turn up unannounced when she least expected it. 

She figured he must get some sort of satisfaction out of it.

“Since I got out of work,” she replied. Izuru just stared at her, expression not changing at all. Somehow, she was still able to work out what he wanted. “...he’s done this a few times over the past week or so.” 

Turning to look over her shoulder, she noticed Mizushima was still there, watching them. She slipped her hand into Izuru’s.

“I could stop him, if you’d like.”

Considering what happened the last time he encountered the other man, Chiaki figured she didn’t want to know what it would take to get Mizushima to agree to leave them alone. “No. It’s fine.” She didn’t like relying on Izuru’s talents, anyway. If she could get it done herself, she would.

The Steering Committee might have wanted to use him like a human multitool, but she refused to do the same.

“I see.”

“I appreciate the thought, though… I think.”

Mizushima was still there. She wondered what he was waiting for. 

Annoyed, Chiaki reached up to pull Izuru down into a deep kiss, her lips lingering on his until she opened her eyes again to see Mizushima had turned away. By then, though, she was enjoying it, fingers entwined with his hair. He didn’t resist, leaning in, one hand cupping her cheek.

Izuru pulled away just enough to speak. “That was rather petty of you,” he observed.

_ I learned from the best,  _ she wanted to say. But she just stole another kiss and then tugged him along, her face red.

They continued up the stairs. Chiaki reminded herself to ask Izuru to fix the elevator at some point, when it would be a little less suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "meme your rarepair is showing" let me live. nanagiri is an extremely valid ship


	5. A Brief Interlude

The news was never good. Chiaki tried to keep up with current events, but with the infrastructure collapsed and despair running rampant through the streets, very little of what she heard was good.

She couldn’t be like Naegi, no matter how hard she tried. Hope’s one big victory had been the defeat and subsequent death of Enoshima Junko, and since then, successful attempts to reclaim ground had been few and far in between. 

When they first watched the end of the broadcast, they had all believed that the world would soon begin to right itself again. That belief continued after they were able to secure Naegi Makoto and the other survivors of the Killing Game, bringing them into the fold as Future Foundation employees. They had even created a new branch, headed up by Kirigiri herself. 

But the Remnants had doubled their efforts since Enoshima’s passing. Whatever was left of their humanity seemed to be gone, as if her death was the trigger for a bomb that had been waiting to drop since the very beginning.

They weren’t even able to recover the body. It had, like Monokuma, disappeared.

“News from Novoselic.”

Togami slid a report in front of her, his tone short and clipped, betraying how tedious he found all of this. He’d never been much of one for human costs. He’d softened a bit over time, but he still preferred to look at the big picture.

Chiaki swallowed, her mouth dry. She took the papers and glanced over them, even though she didn’t want to know.

The civil war in Novoselic had been raging almost since the beginning of the Tragedy. They didn’t only target themselves, of course-- being a largely militaristic nation, Sonia’s small but mighty homeland waged war on all those around them.

But Sonia herself was thought to be dead, at least in the public eye. It was her death, and the death of the royal family, that sparked the war in the first place.

Chiaki knew better, though. She was unable to cite her sources, so she kept it to herself that she suspected Sonia had merely faked her death. Word from Izuru confirmed that this was likely the truth of the situation. The knowledge did her no good, because she couldn’t pass it on without exposing her connection to the Remnants and to their so-called leader.

So she read each report coming out of Novoselic with growing trepidation, watching as events snowballed, her former best friend burning her beloved country to the ground.

The incredibly striking and poignant photos of the war itself certainly didn’t help any.

“I imagine she’ll be one of the most difficult to locate,” Togami commented after Chiaki didn’t reply. Her entire body had gone cold. “She has an entire military to protect her. The fact that she’s supposedly dead certainly won’t help.”

“Give our spies time,” Kirigiri pointed out. “They’ll find her.”

“But will they find her in time?” Togami slipped the report out of Chiaki’s hands, and she didn’t resist. She was glad to see it go.

“Maybe we should ask Hagakure-kun.” The edges of Kirigiri’s lips curved up in a slight, teasing smile.

“That  _ plebeian _ couldn’t find his way out of his own mother if you pulled on his head with forceps.”

“I take it he broke another crystal ball.”

Togami’s complaints faded into background noise as Chiaki stared at her hands.  _ Another public execution in Novoselic,  _ she thought.  _ Supposedly, wild dogs tore apart our largest base in Osaka, with everyone inside it. Anti-Future Foundation propaganda has been spreading. The yakuza are either dead or against us. Towa City still hasn’t been retaken. There are reports of mass slaughter all over the country. _

And behind it all were people she held dear, driven to despair by Enoshima herself.

Chiaki felt like she should have seen the signs. The way Enoshima manipulated them, wormed her way into their friend group and became one of them. She’d been suspicious from the start, but it was only because she was jealous.

Jealous of the new, beautiful, popular girl who seemed to have all the answers. She won her friends’ loyalty with barely any effort, and Chiaki had simply watched it happen. She knew there was nothing she could have done, but all the same, she’d promised Yukizome she would protect them.

Instead, she led them into a trap that nearly got herself killed. Enoshima used the footage against the rest of her class, and in that way, Chiaki’s actions had helped solidify their fall. As class representative, she had been responsible for them.

Which was why, during her recovery, she had focused on a way to bring them back. The more she learned about the horrible things they did, the deeper into the depths of despair she herself fell. For the longest time, she’d concluded that the only way to save them would be to kill them.

_ “I’ll save them, or I’ll save the world from them,” _ Chiaki had told herself. She hated the idea of ending anyone’s life, much less the lives of her important friends, but… she thought it was the end they would want. Not more relentless destruction of everything they held dear. No, they would have a gentle end at the hands of somebody who cared about them, rather than capture by Future Foundation’s more militant leaders.

Thankfully, Naegi had given her a way out. With the Neo World Program, they could be rehabilitated. Their bodies would never be the same, but all traces of Enoshima could be wiped from their minds. They could start over.

But they’d have to forget her to do it.

“Nanami-san,” Naegi suddenly interjected. Togami and Kirigiri stopped talking, angling their heads toward him with interest. It was the first time he’d spoken in half an hour. “You should tell Kiryu-kun that the cookies he made are really good!”

Chiaki blinked. It took her a second to register the fake name she’d given Izuru. “Ah… right. Those.” She’d actually forgotten she brought them over with her. She hadn’t mentioned it to Izuru, instead slipping out the door with the bag hopefully unnoticed on the inside of her hoodie as she bid him farewell.

Izuru resented the fact that Naegi had been labeled “Ultimate Hope,” finding him a lesser human specimen, not at all an embodiment of “hope” as he thought it. That was to say the least. If he knew she’d offered Naegi something he made, he’d probably sprinkle rat poison in the next batch.

Naegi seemed oblivious to Izuru’s rather petty grudge, though. He happily ate his cookies in his chair in the corner and continued typing away on his laptop, likely communicating with Alter Ego. More than likely, he'd meant to diffuse the tension in the room. He'd gotten pretty good at that. Seeing him there in his ratty old hoodie brought a smile to Chiaki’s face, and she banished thoughts of the outside world from her mind. At least for the moment, she needed to focus on their work here.

The hope that Naegi embodied was something Izuru couldn’t possibly understand. Even as society crumbled around them and anarchy reigned, Naegi remained the same.

“I’m glad you like them,” she said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> egg boy


	6. Spring Rain

Over the course of the next several days, it rained on and off. The water, acidic from the high levels of pollution in the scarlet sky, collected in gutters and pools and in the roads where the holes hadn’t yet been patched up. Too much exposure to it could make those with weak immune systems rather ill, especially if it was ingested, so Chiaki saw little of Mizushima.

She’d grown rather tired of being so openly belligerent. He questioned her often about Izuru’s behavior at home, and she tried to deflect with one word answers to no avail. In order to try and chase him off for good, she’d begun explaining the entire plot of Kingdom Hearts to him whenever he opened his mouth.

She could have asked for Izuru’s help with the issue of the obnoxious scientist, but she refused to admit she needed it. He didn’t ask any more questions about the situation. Chiaki had plenty of personal experience with how smug he was (somehow, despite the lack of expression on his face) when he was right, and that thought was more annoying than anything Mizushima did.

She never claimed to only be competitive in games.

“And then, you wouldn't believe it--  _ Lea _ of all people swoops in to save Sora from being norted.  _ With a keyblade! _ ” Chiaki said, pausing for a breath in the middle of her speech. She’d been going for the last ten minutes, and she could tell it was starting to wear on her opponent.

“Are you quite finished?” he asked her, the edge in his tone meaning to cut her but only giving her satisfaction instead.

“Are you?”

The older man heaved a sigh and shook his head. Chiaki inhaled deeply, about to launch into her explanation once again, when he cut her off. She promptly bit her tongue and scowled.

“I did some digging.” That statement brought Chiaki up short, and she halted in her tracks. For a moment, the only sound was the  _ drip drip _ of the remains from last night’s storm landing in a puddle nearby. “It’s rather interesting that you were the only survivor of your class, given how close all of you apparently were.”

“...what?”

“There’s pictures online.” He waved his hand with its still-splinted finger, trying to dismiss the fact that he’d apparently been looking her up on the internet. “And several reports. Fluff pieces, really. When asked about the work they did in school, several of your classmates mentioned you by name. They said you kept them together.”

Chiaki bit her lip.  _ Well, wherever he works has internet access, apparently,  _ she told herself.  _ That’s a bit of a rarity.  _ She found that her mouth had gone dry, but she tried to speak around it. 

“I was class representative.”

“It must be… incredibly difficult to continue, knowing they’re gone.”

A stab of pain went lancing through her chest. She wasn’t sure if it was sorrow, or rage that he would be bringing this up as revenge for her earlier transgressions. That was only her first assumption, though. When he continued, she began to see the bigger picture.

“If you could erase that particular trauma, however…”

Her breath caught in her throat as her heart leaped into it. For a moment, Chiaki was simply bewildered. What he suggested was absolutely ludicrous.

But that was exactly what had been done to Naegi and his friends. Their memories had been altered, and during the entirety of the Killing Game, they had been under the impression that they had only just started their time at Hope’s Peak. In actuality, though, they had been students there for nearly a year when the Tragedy started.

Chiaki and Naegi had been friends, before the world went to hell. She remembered the afternoons spent playing games with him rather vividly, but when they had first met again after his escape, he couldn’t even remember her name.

The lump in her throat grew.

“Matsuda-kun’s research…” she mumbled, as if mesmerized. “Did you… salvage it?”

The Ultimate Neurologist’s work had been the key to Enoshima’s manipulation of her former classmates. She shouldn’t be surprised it survived in some form, especially given its use in the Hope Cultivation Project, but her body still went cold at the thought of it.

What else remained of that cursed business? Had everything of the project been wiped, or was there enough of it left that it could be reproduced, however poorly? A scientist ambitious enough might try, so long as they wouldn’t be the one to suffer from a failed attempt.

She’d once asked Izuru how many “subjects” there were before him, but he had been unable to give her an answer.

“Enough of it,” Mizushima replied, curtly enough that she wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not. It was impossible to read his face as he stared down at her. Something about the set of his jaw suggested how tense he was, but that could easily be misinterpreted. “It could be replicated.”

The steady  _ drip, drip _ of the overflowing gutters above them continued. Chiaki turned to look, casting her gaze elsewhere so Mizushima couldn’t see her face.

It wasn’t like she’d never thought of it.

There were times she wished she could wipe the entire Tragedy from her brain and start over again, or perhaps forget the times that came before so that their current situation could seem almost normal. That was how many children would grow up, after all. She didn’t exactly envy them.

There was the Neo World Program, too. 

What Mizushima had just suggested to her wasn’t so far off from what they were planning with the Remnants of Despair. In order to save them, they had to wipe their memories clean of Hope’s Peak Academy. They couldn’t be  _ entirely _ sure when Enoshima’s influence began, after all. Even though she’d only begun to notice the girl’s presence after their first year there was over, it could have started earlier.

But in erasing the bad… they’d take the good with them, too.

Sonia’s smiling face was the first that came to mind. The Novoselic princess had been the first to greet Chiaki on her first day, beaming at her as she asked what that small device in her hands was. 

Confused, a little put off by the other girl’s ignorance, Chiaki had explained what she was doing. And instead of making fun of her, or telling her she was wasting her time, Sonia had been fascinated. It was such a change from the way her classmates at her old school reacted to her that Chiaki had latched onto her almost immediately.

Souda, too. The mechanic was a bit rough around the edges, but they’d bonded when he’d first offered to fix one of her consoles for her.

To her surprise, they had a lot of things in common. The way Souda wore his heart on his sleeve, instead of pushing all his feelings down deep inside, inspired Chiaki to become more open with her friends eventually.

There was her cousin Chihiro, who’d been her only support as a child, even if they could only contact each other over the internet or the phone. They could go months without talking, but once one of them broke that silence, it was like they’d never been apart. Hiro-kun and Aki-chan, somehow inseparable despite living miles away.

Koizumi, who was always so responsible… Tsumiki, so eager to please that she’d trip all over herself to help anybody out, even her most frequent harasser Saionji. Owari’s resilience, Nidai’s spirit, even Hanamura’s perverted jokes had grown on her since then. 

And Hinata…

...she was the only one left to remember Hinata.

From the inner pocket of her hoodie, she pulled out a violet blue Gameboy, running her thumbs over it as if it were sacred. It was worn from years of use, and the only thing that set it apart from others of its same model was the pink sticker she’d slapped on it all that time ago.

It was that same sticker that had helped her recognize it at the pawn shop, months after Hinata had disappeared.

“No,” Chiaki said. Short, concise, and to the point-- that was her answer.

Mizushima couldn’t believe her for a second. He screwed his eyes up, peering over his glasses at her. “No?”

Chiaki started walking again, putting the Gameboy back in its pocket where it would be secure. “No. Absolutely not. What happened back then might still hurt, but to forget the pain, I’d have to forget my friends, too… I think.” They were all she had. They were the only reason she kept going, sometimes. “And they made me who I am today. Without them… I don’t know who I’d be.”

Just like Hinata had become Kamukura, she had no idea who she’d wake up as if she forgot the people who were no longer with her. It wasn’t nearly as drastic, but all the same, that version of Nanami Chiaki would be a stranger to her.

“You’re afraid,” Mizushima accused, starting after her. “You should  _ never _ refuse something potentially beneficial just because of the outcome!”

Chiaki grit her teeth, but she kept walking. Her pace quickened, but as usual, the researcher kept up with her with ease.

“Nothing can ever evolve from cowardice!” Mizushima was raising his voice even higher now, the tremble in it evident. He truly had believed he’d roped her in, gotten her to take the bait. He was impatient.

He reached out to grab her by the arm, yanking her back.

“How do you think we created your precious “ _ Izuru” _ \--!!”

The instant she felt his touch, Chiaki whirled. There was a flash of anger like lightning in her eyes, and she pulled her free arm back. In the next instant, she’d slammed her fist into his face, wiping the sneer off of it with ease.

Mizushima let out a cry and staggered back. He held his nose in his hands, one lens of his glasses shattered. Blood sluggishly dripped through his fingers, sliding down them until it began to stain his sleeves. She hadn’t held back.

He stayed standing, though. He dug his heels in, stubborn until the end. Through the pain he shouted, “I  _ will _ tell  _ everyone _ that Kamukura Izuru is living among them! Future Foundation will know you’re a traitor! They’ll lock you up, they’ll execute you! You bi--”

He bit his tongue, a sudden sensation behind him stopping him mid-word. The atmosphere changed entirely. Blood still ran down his face, though he made no effort now to cover it. Instead his arms dropped, as if the pressure caused them to fall to his sides.

“You don't have to stop on my account.”

Izuru stood behind him, observing Mizushima like he might a roach.

The look on Mizushima’s face was one of sheer horror as he turned and backed away, nearly bumping into Chiaki. She was too busy assessing the damage to notice as he knocked into her. 

“S-sorry!” Mizushima stammered. “Sorry, I--”

Nothing in Izuru’s face or stance actually suggested a threat. It was his mere presence that caused Mizushima to falter.

Izuru took a single step forward, no longer even looking at him. And with that, Mizushima turned tail and fled, running down the street until he’d vanished over the horizon. The sight might have been comical, but Chiaki felt sick to her stomach as she watched him go. There was no sense of triumph or relief.

She wanted to accuse Izuru of following her again, but since that decision actually turned out in her favor, she had no ground to stand on. She sighed as Izuru caught up with her, still holding her injured hand. She hadn’t  _ meant _ to swing, but something in Mizushima’s touch had activated her self defense reflex.

Izuru took her hand and examined it, putting enough pressure on her knuckles and wrist that she winced. That was all he needed to make a probable diagnosis. 

“It’s more than likely a fracture.” Chiaki took her hand back from him, staring at it sullenly. “I can treat it when we get home.”

“Mmh.” 

Had anybody seen what just occurred? She found herself taking in their surroundings, trying to determine if they weren’t alone. But the area was deserted except for the two of them. At least she wouldn’t be arrested for assault.

She trailed after Izuru on the walk back, still absorbed in her own thoughts. He wasn’t normally one for casual conversation, so he let her be. It could have given her time to sort herself out, but instead she found herself falling deeper into melancholy.

“Is that… something he could have done?” Chiaki asked Izuru eventually.

He glanced at her.

“Erasing my memories.”

He fixed his gaze back on the road. “He seemed to believe so,” he told her. “But the gap between one’s theoretical skill and the actual outcome is often rather wide. More than likely, he would have damaged your mind beyond repair in his attempt.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t surprising to hear.

“Either way, he would have achieved his goal,” Izuru said.

She had to think for a moment, but the answer was obvious. “Removing me from the equation,” Chiaki replied quietly. Izuru nodded. “If not for me, his research could continue… Probably.”

She wondered if Mizushima had been trying to wear her down that entire time. From what she could recall from their conversations, that might have been his goal all along. When he wasn’t digging for information, he was pushing her, as if to see how far he could go before she snapped. Apparently, he hadn’t expected the end to be quite so violent.

Chiaki rested her head against Izuru’s shoulder, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. “I just want to rest when we get home,” she said. Her other hand still throbbed, but more than anything she was exhausted and disappointed in herself for lashing out the way she did.

Izuru hesitated, as if uncertain how to respond. “...I’ll bake something later,” he suggested, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. Chiaki buried her face in the crook of his neck. The smell of his shampoo (hers, really) overrode the smell of rain still in the air.

“I’d like that,” she murmured.

But she couldn’t erase a disquieting thought at the back of her mind.

_ If something  _ did  _ happen to me, what would you do? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somebody's been paying attention to his relationship lessons, apparently. (except for the no stalking part)
> 
> thanks for sticking around! aside from beautiful days and beautiful ruin, i've also got another project i'll be writing on and off for a little while probably. a small hint, that chiaki would likely understand instantly... "it's a wonderful world"!

**Author's Note:**

> i wasn't gonna put this up yet bc it still has some work i need to do before the entire fic is complete but. dunno when i'll update beautiful ruin, so might as well at least get a few chapters of this posted.
> 
> this was my very first attempt to actually write fic instead of just roleplay posts, and razz was patient enough to edit it for me (aka break up my massive paragraphs bc im terrible at that and also slap my hand when i used too many adverbs) so. u kno. another shout out to them for that, and also for correcting my attempts to write izuru in later chapters. and just generally being wonderful wow im gay
> 
> if u ever think any of these titles are bad or cheesy its bc i hate coming up w titles


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